


No Pain in the Void

by Grunky



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adopted Children, Angst, Emotional Constipation, Gen, I'm sorry that's just how Lucien is here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25751257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grunky/pseuds/Grunky
Summary: ... That is what Lucien Lachance says to himself. When a conversation with the Listener broaches a rather personal question, however, the spectral assassin finds himself pondering things he had thought he buried so long ago.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	No Pain in the Void

_The Listener fell quiet for quite some time, "Do you ever miss the twins?"_

_"They are in their rightful place with their true father, the Dread Father, now. I would not have it any other way."_

_"If that is what you chose to say to numb the pain, so be it."_

* * *

There was no pain in the Void. Lucien has known that for two centuries. He is reminded of it when an enchanted blade strikes him down, only for it to feel like the light stirring of an autumn breeze; he is reminded of it when mage fire sets him alight, only for it to blanket him in a numbness like ice. He ponders it each time his spectral form dissipates and he drifts once more into the embrace of his Dread Father.

The numbness did not falter between planes.

The numbness was a welcome companion, an eternal promise.

Lucien could not feel pain. He could never feel pain.

He knew Ocheeva and Teinaava felt the same. While their lives may have come to a premature end, they serve Sithis as strongly as ever, acting as eternal guardians of the sanctuary they once called home. Preserving its sanctity for the time the Brotherhood once more reclaimed its old glory.

Sithis had gifted them this charge. Gifted them no pain. Just as he had gifted them their destiny as Shadowscales; gifted them their very lives.

For Sithis had been their Father the moment they hatched, was he not?

Sithis was their true Father.

It was Sithis who decided when they'd suffer. How they'd suffer. Such was his cruel love.

But in the end, they would feel no pain.

No pain as their father slew them with another's hand.

Lucien had seen their bodies, when he'd arrived to clean up his Silencer's work. The stench of death was rancid. The blood ran like a river down the hallway, and he followed it until the guts lay at his feet.

Ocheeva and Teinaava had stayed together until their final breaths. Their insides tangled; their blood joined. As close as ever in death as they were in life.

Oddly, he recalled the position they lay in - they'd been reaching towards each other in an embrace. He recalled when they embraced, as children, before they fell into slumber.

In the end, it was their father that embraced them.

Lucien also recalled their faces. The rigor mortis had already set in, their expressions caught in the dim firelight like vivid statues. Identical expressions. Hardly surprising. Expressions of anger, agony,

_Betrayal._

Betrayal, betrayal, _betrayal..._

Surely they forgave their father.

Their father had not felled them for no good reason.

Their father still loved them.

Would Sithis have given them new life, new purpose, if he hadn't?

The pain would have subsided through the two hundred years, replaced by numbness.

As it were when their hearts stopped beating.

As it were when their Father embraced them.

So cold, they'd been.

So _cold_...

Lucien had raised them that way. Cold. Brutally efficient. The ideal, pure-bred killers, as all Shadowscales were meant to be.

Lucien had made sure of that.

It had been his duty for seventeen years, after all. And he had never fulfilled his duties to his the Dread Father and Night Mother half-heartedly. He committed himself to the task the moment two bundles of cloth landed in his then softer hands.

He'd taught them how to hold a blade.

_He'd taught them how to walk._

He'd taught them how to stalk their prey.

_He'd taught them how to talk._

He'd taught them of their Mother and their Father as they drifted into slumber. Embracing each other. Just as their father embraced them, as they welcomed the darkness.

He had prepared them for death. Dealing death in the name of their Father. Facing death in the name of their father.

Surely, they felt no pain at that.

There was no pain in the Void.

Lucien could not feel pain. He could never feel pain.

* * *

_"If that is what you chose to say to numb the pain, so be it."_

Betrayal.

Betrayal, betrayal, _betrayal..._

Ocheeva and Teinaava had been right to feel betrayal. They did not have to spare forgiveness.

Forgive their Father, yes.

Forgive their sibling - no.

The boy had always been an outlier. Mute, uneasy, sitting in a shadowed corner watching his Family train. Eat sparsely at evening, then at night trap himself under his coverlet in his own solitary world.

Such was not unusual for a child in his circumstance.

The twins were a tender seven winters old, when he brought the boy home. The boy himself had been ten. He remembered that. Perhaps Ocheeva and Teinaava been excited at the prospect of another Sibling closer to their age, as they warmed to him the moment he stepped in. Inviting him to play. To spar. Trying to welcome him into their Family, for it was now his'.

He'd come around to them, in time. If only with some gentle coaxing by Lucien.

Looking back, that moment was even more vivid than he once recalled it. It had been a quiet evening; nigh everyone was in the training quarters; Lucien had been speaking with Vicente, in the minutes before spotting the boy in that same dark corner he always occupied.

_Lucien had felt a set of steady eyes on him beforehand.  
_

So Lucien had approached. Slowly, he recalled, as to not startle the boy. He had lowered himself to meet the boy at eye-level. Then Lucien asked the boy how he felt.

_He recalled those dark, dangerous eyes on him..._

Bellamont was mad at the world. He did not speak it outright, but Lucien was keen to detect it.

Such was not unusual for a child in his circumstance.

So Lucien handed Bellamont a dagger.

He told Bellamont the dagger was his anger, and that he should unleash it on the world that had given it to him.

_He had given Bellamont the dagger._

Lucien had never officially took the boy under his wing. Perhaps the other Siblings had a wordless agreement, based upon Lucien's experience; perhaps it was Ocheeva and Teinaava's insistence on him being included on their travels and activities. More often than not, however, he was raising three Children.

And like always, he never fulfilled his duties half-heartedly.

The boy seemed to grow exponentially into his place in the Family; one would think he was born something like a Shadowscale, to do the work of his Father so naturally.

Yes, he instilled strongly in the boy to love his Father - for Lucien had seen the bruises left by his blood father.

He instilled strongly in the boy to love his Mother - for Lucien knew his mother had been long gone.

He instilled strongly in the boy to love his Family - for his family was ready to love him in return.

And the boy turned that dagger called anger upon his Family. Upon his siblings.

Upon his Mother.

Upon his father.

_He had given Bellamont the dagger._

In the end, Lucien would feel no pain. Sithis had gifted Bellamont with his own charge. Had gifted Bellamont with his own destiny the moment of his birth.

Gifted him his very life.

Bellamont was not too dissimilar to his Shadowscale siblings, after all.

A shame the boy could never have seen that.

But it was as his Father intended. Lucien did not question his Father's intentions. His father gifted him anger, and the boy used it as he was meant to.

_He had given Bellamont the dagger._

In the end, Lucien could never feel pain.

There was no pain in the Void.

He had received the death reserved for a traitor, but he knew in secret it had been proper time for him to finally join Sithis. The Dread Father had a strange way of reassuring his Children of their demise. It was an intangible feeling - a subconscious knowing, a tugging from the darkness, telling him to accept its hand calmly.

Ocheeva and Teinaava must have heard the call as well. Even Bellamont must have.

... It was no matter anymore.

They all had taken their rightful place with the Dread Father. Their true father.

Their demise was never premature. Sithis had planned this for his children all along.

They could not feel pain.

There was no pain in the Void.

Lucien would not have it any other way.

_And if this is what he chooses to say to numb the pain..._

**_So be it._ **

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted for an RP forum I'm in; the small exchange at that beginning that prompts this story transpired in the RP, with Joelcoxriley writing the Listener in question. I was happy enough with this piece to share it here however.
> 
> I've always had this personal headcanon regarding Lucien's relationship with Ocheeva, Teinaava, and Mathieu that I wanted to delve into. Having the three basically be his adopted children adds another layer of tragedy to the whole ordeal, don't you think? I do hope I conveyed Lucien's thoughts clearly but compellingly enough. As always, feel free to share your thoughts and critiques - it's greatly appreciated! :)


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